


The Hardest Ones to Love

by MeteoraWrites



Series: Here's to Hating High School Together [4]
Category: Fear the Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Nick is good with everyones but his own, Troy is bad at feelings, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 12:33:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19464082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeteoraWrites/pseuds/MeteoraWrites
Summary: “She’s gone,” Troy says bitterly before taking a drink from the bottle with a grimace. “Got th’ call on the way out this mornin’. D’n’t even go t’ the ranch. Just th’ ‘ssisted living place an’ the funeral home….”Nick finds himself coming to kneel on the porch in front of Troy, getting a better look at his face in the low light as he slowly reaches a hand out to take the half-empty bottle away. “I’m sorry, Troy. Really, I am. But what are you doing, man? You said yourself you can’t even stand the smell of this shit,” he says carefully as he slowly pulls the bottle out of fingers that tremble slightly.“She n’ver felt anythin’ when she drank, so I thought I wouldn’ either. S’not workin’ though…” the other boy laments as he watches Nick take the cap from the small table beside Troy and screw it on.“Yeah, that’s not how it really works a lot of the time…” Nick says softy.





	The Hardest Ones to Love

**Author's Note:**

> Alrighty, so, this is written for a request from Greeny, who sent me the prompt "Do you think it will be okay?" and asked it be angsty Trick in the high school AU. I hope you like it, sweetie!
> 
> Also, listen to Carry me by Papa Roach before or after reading this <3  
> Don't forget to check out the [Here's To Hating High School Together Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1fXl9HXXalDwxgjQFnKOSm?si=PB1zuSsYRn2xs7JnSkPirw)

Nick has gotten used to not seeing Troy at school every day. They text, and they meet up at the old house, and they sneak into each other's rooms on the nights they know Nick’s mom or Troy’s brother wouldn’t allow them over. They haven’t gone a day without some kind of communication since, well, since that night Nick went snooping and found out what kind of shit Troy has been through.

They both are undoubtedly some level of crazy. But in a way that works for them.

The first time Nick saw Troy he knew there was something about the other boy that was drawing them together. 

Troy called them both black sheep one night when they were curled up in their little hideout.

Children of violence.

He had huffed a laugh and kissed him after. Told him they weren’t children anymore and the violence would be behind them someday soon.

At least he hoped it would be.

It’s Saturday night. Troy went out to the ranch with Jake again that morning and he hasn’t heard from him all day. By now he’s gotten used to that. There’s no signal out in the damn desert and Jake and Troy had a lot of paperwork to sign and arrangements to be made.

The court case against Jeremiah is still raging on, but things are looking to end with Jeremiah spending the rest of his life in jail and the family ranch will be sold to the local tribe that the land used to belong to. Troy isn’t exactly happy about it, but he also has reached a point where being there for longer than a few hours makes him start to lose it. So Jake has been taking pity on him and letting him go into town to work on other things while Jake does the majority of the grunt work so to speak.

Troy had sent him a text the night before saying they would be home around 8 or so and that he would be over after a shower and something to eat with Jake.

It’s 10:17 and Nick is seriously starting to worry. He sent a few texts throughout the evening, expecting at least some kind of response once Troy got into cellphone range again. Bot so far nothing. His thumb has been hovering over the call button for a good long minute, lower lip being worried between his teeth as he thinks.

Troy could be driving, they could have got a flat, they could be stuck in traffic. He hit’s call, expecting at least Jake answering to say Troy is driving or something to that effect if Troy himself doesn’t answer. What he gets instead is an almost instant answer from Troy’s voicemail. The recording of Troy’s voice saying ‘ _ You’ve reached Troy Otto, leave a message or I won’t call you back _ ’.

Nick snorts a laugh despite his nerves. Troy sounds so angry in the message. Clearly having made it only because Jake told him to. A moment later the beep comes and Nick takes a breath. “Hey, Troy. I was just calling to see what’s up. Haven’t heard anything from you since last night and I wanted to know if we were still on for hanging out tonight. Give me a call back when you get this.”

As soon as he hangs up he tosses his phone on his bed and starts to pace his room. It’s not like Troy to have his phone off. He always has the damn thing charged. Even when he’s out in the middle of nowhere with Jake.

Looking at the clock it’s only 10:23. He grabs his phone, stuffing it in his pocket before grabbing his keys. His mom is at Travis’ house for the night and Alicia is over at her friend Annie’s. So it was supposed to just be him and Troy tonight. He even has his mom’s car thanks to a momentary lapse of sanity on her part.

It doesn’t take long to drive to Troy’s house. Maybe 3 minutes. And when he sees Troy’s truck in the driveway and the garage door is closed (meaning Jake is home) he knows something is up.

Pulling up to the curb, he pulls out his phone and tries Troy one more time, worry growing as it goes to voicemail again.

He’s out of the car and making his way up the drive to walk around the side of the house that Troy’s room is on. It’s on the second floor, but he’s climbed higher when less than sober and had no problem, so it only takes him a moment to haul himself up the drain pipe to look in Troy’s empty room.

Once he’s on the ground again he peeks in through the living room window to see the lights off and yet again no sign of Troy. It isn’t until he walks around back to look in the kitchen that he finds Troy.

Who is sitting on the back porch with a bottle that looks suspiciously like a whiskey bottle in hand. He’s in an old looking rocking chair, elbows on his knees as he sits hunched forward. His bangs are obscuring his eyes from Nick’s view, but he has a feeling he knows what they look like behind the mess of curls.

“Hey…” he says softly, trying not to spook Troy, who he figures has to have heard him coming around the side of the house by now.

He gets a grunt in response and a slightly raised head. The porch light is off, but the moonlight is bright enough for Nick to see dried tear tracks on Troy’s face and the way his eyes are still a bit red and puffy around the edges.

“Troy… What… What happened?” Troy told him he doesn’t drink. Said he can’t stand the smell of the stuff. And most importantly, Troy told him why. Smelling whiskey on your mother and fathers breath as they smack you around and lock you in a dark basement is something that sticks with you.

Nick can’t stand the smell of bud light or coffee brandy. His moms preferred cheap drinks to keep around the house. She likes to think the coffee smell hides the alcohol and that the light beer doesn’t hit her the same as a regular one, even though she drinks more of them than she ever did when she was just drinking the regular ones when Nick and Alicia’s dad was alive.

The chuckle that leaves Troy is the most manic Nick has ever heard and he instantly knows something bad has happened.

“She’s gone,” Troy says bitterly before taking a drink from the bottle with a grimace. “Got th’ call on the way out this mornin’. D’n’t even go t’ the ranch. Just th’ ‘ssisted living place an’ the funeral home….”

Nick finds himself coming to kneel on the porch in front of Troy, getting a better look at his face in the low light as he slowly reaches a hand out to take the half-empty bottle away. “I’m sorry, Troy. Really, I am. But what are you doing, man? You said yourself you can’t even stand the smell of this shit,” he says carefully as he slowly pulls the bottle out of fingers that tremble slightly.

“She n’ver felt anythin’ when she drank, so I thought I wouldn’ either. S’not workin’ though…” the other boy laments as he watches Nick take the cap from the small table beside Troy and screw it on. 

“Yeah, that’s not how it really works a lot of the time…” Nick says softy. The look on Troy’s face is so open and sad that it makes his heart hurt. “Why don’t we go inside? I’ll get you some water and fix you some food.”

Troy shakes his head and looks like he might start crying again for just a moment before he seems to calm himself down. “Jake th’nks I’m at y’ur place…” he admits sheepishly. “I… I can’t… I can’t go ‘n there right now…”

Sighing, Nick sets the bottle aside and stands up, holding out both hands for Troy to take. “Come on, I have my moms car. I’ll drive us to my place. It’s empty. No parents or siblings. It’ll be just the two of us. I promise.”

Troy eyes him for a long moment before hesitantly reaching out to take Nick’s offered hands. He wobbles on his feet once he’s up, and Nick doesn’t hesitate to put his arm around Troy’s waist to help support him as they step off the porch and start to head for the car.

“Nicky…” Troy mumbles a little later as they pull into the driveway of the Clark household. “D’you think I’m a bad person…”

That throws Nick off a little, unsure of how to answer for a moment. “No, Troy. I don’t. I think you’re someone bad things happened to. You’re twisted because of it. But I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

“She said I w’s bad…” Troy mumbles in response, head turned to look out the window and away from Nick. “Said a lot ‘f stuff…”

“Your mom was sick, Troy. She didn’t know what the hell she was talking about,” Nick argues, voice growing louder despite himself. Troy’s head turns, sort of rolling across the rest on his seat, and he looks at Nick through tired, slightly unfocused eyes. “Just… Just listen to me, alright? She didn’t really know you. Not the real you. Okay? She had her own twisted image of you in her head that was warped by drinking and the shit your father put you both through. Now come on, let’s go inside.”

Troy stares at him for a long moment before nodding and unbuckling his seatbelt. He brushes Nick off when he tries to help him to the front door, grumbling that he’s fine even as he wobbles a bit.

Once they’re inside he directs Troy to the bathroom to take a shower and brush his teeth. He smells like whiskey, and Nick knows if he wakes up smelling like it he’ll definitely have a panic attack. He won’t admit that’s what they are, but he’s had them before and Nick knows now how best to deal with them.

When Troy emerges a little later, hair damp and clad in the softest pair of pajama pants Nick owns, along with a led zeppelin t-shirt that hangs a little off his shoulder, he looks ready to pass out. Nick signals him to come sit at the kitchen table regardless.

“Come on, you gotta eat something before bed or you’ll regret it.” The table has a large glass of water waiting, along with some aspirin and a plate of tater tots and a grilled cheese sandwich. It isn’t much, but it’s greasy and filling and a surefire way to help stave off a hangover.

Troy does as told, sitting and munching away slowly until everything is gone ten minutes later. He even sips at his second glass of water as they make their way to Nick’s room.

Normally, Troy is all eyes when Nick takes off his shirt around him, but tonight he doesn’t even bat an eyelash as his boyfriend strips down to his boxes before putting on a pair of sweat pants he uses when his favorite pajama pants (the ones Troy is currently wearing) aren’t available. 

By the time he’s done changing Troy is already in bed on his side facing the wall. Which isn’t all the surprising given how tired the other boy looked. Nick slips in behind him, leaving a little room as he isn’t sure what Troy wants at the moment. The unspoken question is answered a moment later when Troy leans back into the warmth Nick provides and raises his arm so Nick can slip his own around his waist to settle in a way that lets Troy hold his hand if he likes.

“Nicky…” Troy whispers into the dark.

“Mm?”

“Do you think it will be okay? Now that she’s gone…?” it’s the clearest he’s spoken all night, and the words are the most innocent sounding he’s ever heard Troy speak.

“I don’t know, but if it’s not I’m here for you. I’m not going anywhere,” Nick promises before tilting his head and pressing a kiss to the back of Troy’s neck that makes him shiver.

“Thank’s…”

“Don’t mention it,” Nick mumbles back against the damp curls he’s snuggled his face into. Troy smells like his shampoo and body wash and it’s strange but nice. Even if the circumstances that brought them to this moment are terrible ones it feels a little worth it at the moment. “Just promise me you’ll come to me instead of stealing your brother's whiskey next time something bad happens?”

“I promise.” The words are barely above a whisper, sleep pulling Troy away a moment later.

Nick follows him soon after, the two of them staying close and safe and warm the rest of the night.

When they wake up in the morning Troy kisses him like he never has before. All pent up emotion driving him to do something that makes him feel like he’s alive and connected to another person.

Nick stops him before things get too heated. Promising they can continue another time despite the desire to keep going. He knows what he’s like in situations like this and he knows when to stop. Troy doesn’t, and he doesn’t want him to do something he’ll regret.

Troy goes home that afternoon with a few hickeys and a promise to let Nick know when the funeral is so Nick can be there for him. It’s not perfect. Neither of them wants to part and neither want to go to the damn funeral. But it’s the way things have to be, at least for now.


End file.
